


Benumbed

by Lexalicious70



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Secrets, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 04:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10802037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalicious70/pseuds/Lexalicious70
Summary: Prompt: Eliot's hands are always cold.





	Benumbed

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this as a prompt for a good buddy on Tumblr. Enjoy!

Quentin thought he’d have a lot to get used to when he moved into Eliot’s room in the Cottage, but one thing he didn’t expect was how cold his lover’s hands always were. Whether Eliot’s long arms didn’t allow for normal circulation or it was connected to the way he used his hands for casting, touching them reminded Quentin of how slender urban tree branches in Brooklyn would ice over after a winter storm, delicate and frigid as they shivered in the January wind. One evening, just after they climbed into bed together, Quentin gasped as Eliot spooned him and one big, elegant hand came to rest against his bare stomach. 

“Christ, El!” 

Eliot raised his head. “What’s the problem?” 

“Your hands! They’re always freezing! Why is that?” 

“Oh.” Eliot began to pull his hand away but Quentin took it in his own as he rolled over to face Eliot. 

“I didn’t say get away from me, I just asked why they’re cold.” Quentin drew the other one in and rubbed them both, working his thumbs over the tops of the other magician’s hands. 

“Could be my chronic alcohol abuse.” Eliot sighed in a tone that told Quentin he wasn’t being at all serious, and Quentin searched his amber eyes, unsmiling, until Eliot sighed and lowered his wards. 

“All right. But if tell you, you can’t be all—Quentin about it!” 

Quentin nodded. “Okay, I won’t. Tell me.” 

“I have—I have a—well, it’s an—” The corners of his mouth tightened. “It’s an ailment.” 

“What is it?” 

“It’s called Raynaud’s Disease. It causes chronically cold hands and feet.” 

“Shit, El. I didn’t know. What causes it?” 

“It can have several causes, but in my case, well.” He cleared his throat. “It seems to be—emotional. Memories, or more specifically, unwelcome memories, tend to trigger it.” Eliot’s gaze shifted. “And in my case, Quentin, that’s pretty much all I have. Unwelcome and unwanted memories.” 

Quentin turned, drawing his legs up under his thighs, until he was facing Eliot directly. His own fingers worked over Eliot’s as he whispered a warming spell and leaned in to nuzzle Eliot’s neck and collarbone.  
“Then I only see one solution for your cold hands, El.” 

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

Quentin pressed his body against Eliot’s until the taller magician surrendered and stretched out onto his back, and Quentin swung a leg over his thighs until he was straddling him. He took Eliot’s hands in his own and kissed the knuckles until they warmed under his lips. 

“We make new memories until there’s no more room for the bad ones to come back.” 

Eliot smiled up at his lover. 

“You know, I’m not sure how I feel about you being so ridiculously romantic, Quentin Coldwater.” 

Quentin smiled back and began to rock his hips, creating a delicious friction that would eventually chase away the chill. 

“You’ll warm up to it.”


End file.
